出三藏記集 13.10

13.10

Kang Senghui's ancestors were people of Kangju who had resided in Tianzhu for generations. His father moved to Jiaozhi because of commerce. When Senghui was a little over ten years old, both his parents died; he became known for his utmost filial devotion. Afterward he left home [to become a monk], and his cultivation of conduct was extremely rigorous. He was magnanimous, elegant, perceptive, of great capacity, devoted in purpose, and fond of learning. He was thoroughly versed in the Tripiṭaka and broadly read in the six classics; in astronomy and the apocryphal charts and texts, there was much that he penetrated; he was skilled in crucial deliberations and had considerable literary talent. At that time, Sun Quan ruled the region south of the Yangtze, but Buddhism had not yet arrived there. Senghui, wishing to spread the great Dharma, raised his mendicant's staff and journeyed east, arriving in Jianye in the tenth year of the Chiwu reign era. He built a thatched hut, set up an image, and practiced the path. An official memorialised: 'A foreign man has entered our territory, calling himself a śramaṇa. His appearance and clothing are unusual; the matter should be investigated.' Quan said: 'I have heard that Emperor Ming of the Han dreamed of a deity called the Buddha. Could what he serves be the remaining legacy of that?' He immediately summoned Senghui and questioned him: 'What spiritual verification is there?' Senghui said: 'More than a thousand years have swiftly passed since the Tathāgata withdrew his traces. His relics of bone and śarīra shine with spiritual radiance without limit. Formerly, King Aśoka erected eighty-four thousand stupas. The rising of stupas and temples is the means to manifest his bequeathed transformation.' Quan regarded this as extravagant boast and said to Senghui: 'If you can obtain a śarīra, I will build a stupa for you; if it is false, the state has its established punishments.' Senghui asked for a period of seven days. He then said to his followers: 'The rise or fall of the Dharma rests on this single action. If we are not of utmost sincerity now, how can we make amends later?' They purified themselves together, held a fast in a quiet room, placed a bronze jar upon a table, and burnt incense to worship and entreat. The seven-day period ended, but all was quiet without response. He begged for an extension of a second seven days, which was also like this. Quan said: 'This is deception,' and was about to impose punishment. Senghui again requested a third seven days, and Quan specially granted it. Senghui said: 'The Dharma cloud ought to spread, yet we have no resonance. Why rely on the king's laws? We must take the pledge of death as our limit.' At dusk on the twenty-first day, still nothing was seen, and all were terrified. When the fifth watch began, they suddenly heard a clinking sound inside the jar. Senghui went himself to inspect it, and indeed obtained a śarīra. The next morning he presented it to Quan, and the whole court gathered to view it. Five-colored flames of light illuminated the top of the jar. Quan held the jar with his own hands and poured it onto a bronze basin; wherever the śarīra struck, the basin was instantly shattered. Quan rose in solemn surprise and said: 'A rare and auspicious sign!' Senghui stepped forward and said: 'How could the divine majesty of the śarīra be merely its light and mark? Even the fire of the conflagration at the end of the kalpa cannot burn it, nor can a vajra pestle break it.' Quan ordered an iron mallet and anvil to be fetched, and made a strongman strike it. The anvil and mallet both were dented, but the śarīra showed no change. Quan was deeply sighing in admiration and convinced; he immediately had a stupa built for him. Because this was the beginning of Buddhist temples, it was called the Jianchu Temple ('Temple of the First Foundation'), and he named the locality Buddha Lane. From this, the great Dharma flourished south of the Yangtze. Coming to Sun Hao, who was dark and cruel and wished to burn down the stupas and shrines, the ministers all remonstrated, considering that the Buddha's divine power was unlike other gods: 'Kang Senghui brought about auspicious responses, and the Grand Emperor founded the temple; if we now rashly destroy it, we fear it will bring regret later.' Hao understood and sent Zhang Yu to go to the temple to cross-examine Senghui. Yu was refined and had talent in debate, raising difficult questions in all directions. Senghui responded appropriately and gave rein to his rhetoric, literary grace and reasoned principle both emerging. From morning till evening, Yu could not confute him. When he was about to withdraw, Senghui saw him off at the gate. At that time, there was an illicit shrine beside the temple. Yu said: 'Since the profound transformation is already trusted, why have these people not altered their ways despite being so close?' Senghui said: 'A crashing thunderclap shatters mountains, yet the deaf do not hear it—it is not that the sound is small. If there is mutual accord in principle, there is remote resonance across ten thousand li; if there is blockage, even the liver and gall will be as distant as Chu and Yue.' Yu returned and sighed: 'Senghui's talent and brilliance are not something that your servant can measure; may Your Majesty examine it.' Hao gathered the court's worthies in great numbers and sent a horse carriage to welcome Senghui. When Senghui took his seat, Hao asked: 'What is the retribution of good and evil explained in the teachings of the Buddha?' Senghui answered: 'When an enlightened ruler instructs the world with filial devotion and benevolence, the Red Crow hovers and the Star of Longevity appears; when humane virtue nurtures living things, sweet springs gush forth and auspicious grain grows. Since good has auspicious omens, evil is also like this. Therefore, if one commits evil in secret, the ghosts have cause to slay him; if one commits evil in the open, men have cause to slay him. The Classic of Changes states: "Accumulated evil brings surplus calamity." The Classic of Poetry sings: "Seeking blessings without turning back." Although these are maxims of the Confucian texts, they are the clear teachings of Buddhism.' Hao said: 'If so, then the Duke of Zhou and Confucius have already made it clear. What use is Buddhism?' Senghui said: 'Although the Duke of Zhou and Confucius spoke of it, they only briefly indicated what was obvious and near; as for the teachings of the Śākya, they completely exhaust what is profound and distant. Therefore, committing evil brings the long suffering of the hells, and cultivating good brings the eternal joy of the heavenly palaces. Setting this forth to illuminate encouragement and dissuasion—is it not great?' Hao then conceded. Although Hao heard the true Dharma, his dark and violent nature could not overcome his cruelty. Later, he had the palace guard soldiers enter the rear palace to tend the garden. In the ground, they found a standing golden image several feet tall and presented it to Hao. Hao had it placed in front of the latrine. On the eighth day of the fourth month, Hao went to the latrine, defiled the image, and said: 'I have finished bathing the Buddha!' He returned and laughed together with his ministers for amusement. Before dusk, his scrotum became swollen and painful, and he cried out in unbearable agony. The grand astrologer divined and said: 'It was caused by offending a great spirit.' The ministers prayed and made offerings at all shrines without missing any, but the pain became all the more severe, and he sought death in vain. Among the palace ladies, there was one who had previously revered the Dharma; hearing of Hao's illness, she inquired after him and said: 'Did Your Majesty seek blessings from the Buddha shrine?' Hao raised his head and asked: 'Is the Buddha deity great?' The palace lady answered: 'The Buddha is a great sage, revered by heavenly deities.' Hao's mind then realized [his fault] and he recounted the full story. The palace lady immediately brought the image onto the palace hall, washed it with fragrant water several tens of times, and burned incense to repent. Hao kowtowed on his pillow and confessed his sinful transgressions. Before long, his pain abated. He sent an envoy to the temple to inquire, summoning any practitioner of the path who could expound the scriptures to come and see him. Senghui then followed the envoy inside. Hao asked about the causes of sin and blessing, and Senghui expounded and analyzed them in detail, his words very precise and eloquent. Hao, possessing talent and understanding to begin with, was exceedingly delighted. He thereupon asked to see the śramaṇa precepts. Senghui, considering that the text of the precepts was secret and restricted, and could not be lightly proclaimed, took the hundred and thirty-five vows of the Original Karmas and divided them into two hundred and fifty matters, wishing well for sentient beings in walking, standing, sitting, and lying down. Seeing that these compassionate vows were profound in the extreme and beyond what worldly books could reach, Hao's good intentions increased all the more, and he immediately received the five precepts from Senghui. Within ten days, his illness was cured. He then renovated the temple where Senghui resided, naming it the Temple of the Son of Heaven. He issued an edict to the inner palace, imperial clansmen, and all ministers that none should fail to revere it. Senghui repeatedly expounded the true Dharma at the Wu court; because Hao's nature was fierce and coarse and unable to reach the subtle meaning, Senghui only recounted the immediate verifications of retribution in order to open and stimulate his mind. At the Jianchu Temple, Senghui translated scriptures and Dharmas: the Anannianmi jing, the Jingmianwang chamiwang fanhuangwang jing, the Daopin, and the Liudu ji, all exquisitely capturing the style of the sūtras, their literary meaning fitting and correct. He also annotated the three sūtras of Anban shouyi, Fajing, and Daoshu, and composed prefaces to the scriptures; the elegance and richness of their rhetoric and the subtle refinement of their doctrinal import were both held in high esteem by later generations. Senghui died in the first year of the Taikang reign era of Emperor Wu of the Jin.